Unfortunate Odds
by colacatinthehat
Summary: The Elkwood family have an unfortunate reputation among the people of district 7. No family has ever been so unlucky in the history of the Hunger Games. But will this be the year that Petunia breaks their 19 year long lucky streak? Her brothers certainly hope not. A delicate flower would not last long in the arena at all.


**AN: Hello! Thanks for clicking of this story! If you're reading this I hope you're familiar with Todd Allison and the Petunia Violet and the Hunger Games series. If you're not familliar with the latter I do try and explain it pretty well in the story but if you're unfamiliar with the former I really do think you should check out the comic it's great! But yes, pretty self explanatory. It's a little cross over between to two!**

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The odds were never in the favour of the Elkwoods. That is what the people said when they had heard that the Elkwoods had taken in the boy with the dark eyes and dark hair. What a shame it was for the poor little thing, that destiny should lead him to the path of their doorstep. How unlucky. They were surprised, however, that when the boy had grown he had nothing but high praise for the family that had taken him in. "Poor child," the people would say. "His tongue must be held by fear of his fate." For how could anyone sleep soundly under the roof of such a forsaken household.

The rumours had started two generations prior. In the time when the old days were fresh in the minds of many. After the second child was taken in a space of a mere 5 years people began to talk of how sad it was for a family to lose two children to the Hunger Games. But though it was sad, it wasn't unheard of, the odds weren't against it. However when the third and fourth children's name's were plucked from the glass bowl, people began to wonder. Some said that it was rigged. Some said that it was because the uncle of the Elkwood children had shot and killed a high-ranking official during the rebellion. Not that the people of district 7 spoke of the rebellion in anything more than hushed tones. Regardless of from where the idea had sprung, the family's cursed reputation was kept alive by a slow but steady trickle of tributes and the people's relief that they could never, and would never be so unlucky. However, cursed or not, none could have predicted the outcome of what the newest Hunger Games would bring.

It was on that very morning that the breeze tickled the leaves of the trees and made them whisper, as if they too could not contain their anticipation and fear for the day's upcoming events. The day's work had been suspended in preparation for the Games, and Petunia could see from her perch in the highest tree that they were already setting up the large screens outside the town hall. Later she would join her peers in little roped pens in that very square, and wonder if this year was finally the year that the Elkwoods would inevitably break their 19 year long lucky streak. But that all seemed far away up among the tree branches, where sun was bright and the mockingjays sometimes sang. It was always so dark on the forest floor and her big brother had always told her that Petunia's needed sunlight or they would wilt. He knew a lot about that sort of thing. Petunia thought that her brother was very smart.

"Petunia!"

Speak of the devil.

"Petunia come down from there before you fall! You need to put on your frock!"

Elijah sounded cross in that way he sometimes did, and Petunia was tempted not to climb down, but she obeyed her brothers calls and nimbly clambered from her perch in the tree. She eyed her brother cautiously before jumping onto the leafy coated ground. His stern expression melted away almost instantly and he took her face in his hands and pulled her close.

"Oh my sweetest, beautiful, lovely baby sister! I worry about you every time you climb so high!" Exclaimed Elijah Elkwood.

"I know..." Replied Petunia who found it hard to talk with cheeks squashed together.

Elijah's battered hands were rough on her skin and a bandage was wrapped tightly around the palm of his left hand. On his right the tip of his smallest finger was gone entirely. Elijah's worth was in his quick mind and tongue, not in his skill at lumber. But the pay was steady and the three Elkwood siblings needed to eat. In district 7 building up strength was considered most important, and once children were 12 they were allowed half days in school to make time for part time work chopping wood and carrying wood. Elijah had signed up the day he turned 12, he was 18 and a half now.

Petunia pretended she didn't know but a little part if Elijah's wages he saved just in case he was sent away to the Hunger Games some day. She didn't like that thought. Elijah was clever but she did not fancy his chances against the tributes of district 1,2 and 4. Everybody knew that those districts trained their tributes from childhood and when old enough they volunteered of their own free will to go and fight. They usually won, too. Only a handful of district 7 tributes had ever returned, and none of them had the last name Elkwood.

"Come now! Meredith has made us a lovely lunch to eat and I have picked out one of mother's old dresses for you to wear! I'm certain you'll love it!" and without waiting for a reply Elijah took Petunia's hand and led her back home.

Their home was much like every other house in district 7. It was a rather small structure with a sloping roof and constructed entirely from wood as it was freely available. The houses on the street were intentionally spaced apart to avoid fires, and the place would look lonely had the people of the district not employed their skill in woodwork to make the wooden huts feel like home. The porches and windowsills and shutters were all elaborately patterned with carvings that dotted and arched and swooped around every curve. On hot summer weekends Petunia's father used to add new carvings to their own house, but that was a long time ago now.

Elijah pushed open the heavy door, beaming brightly, and cried: "Meredith! I finally caught her!"

Meredith looked up from the kitchen table where he had been cutting a small loaf of bread. He was not as tall as Elijah with slight shoulders that sloped. It was his eyes, however, against his dark skin and hair that made him most appealing. Petunia believed that her two brothers were quite unlike herself. In her eyes Meredith and Elijah were very beautiful.

"There you are, sweet Petunia," Meredith responded, his voice it's usual ever calm lull. "Sit down and eat."

Petunia examined the spread on the table, it was very fancy by her standards. With bread rolls, goats cheese and even a few blueberries. Her stomach rumbled.

"But what will we eat afterwards?" She asked. It was customary to celebrate after a reaping because you had survived another year.

"Father isn't eating with us so there will be plenty to eat later." Elijah replied, curtly. It had not gone unnoticed that father had refused to make an appearance thus far that day. Petunia didn't mind much. He had lost his sister and cousin to the Hunger Games and come the day of the reaping he tended to drown his sorrows in drink. Elijah was not so forgiving. It made his blood boil to know that he would not watch his own children's reaping.

There was silence for a while as the three siblings munched on their lunch even though none of them were really very hungry. The bread felt heavy in Petunia's stomach and she thought perhaps she would be sick.

It was Elijah who broke the silence first.

"If I don't come back you should know that I have money saved in the box under the floorboard beside my bed. It should be good to last the two of you for at least a few months, you can sign up for work Meredith. You and Petunia should be able to get by if you-"

"Don't talk like that Elijah." Meredith cut him off. "You'll be 19 soon. After these games your name will never be entered again and you'll be safe!"

"My name will be in that bowl 20 times, Meredith." Elijah retorted.

"You survived every Games so far, I'm sure that you will not be picked this time either. Now lets not talk about it any more or you'll frighten Petunia!"

Elijah stayed quiet after that. Petunia's brothers would never say important things in front of her. They thought she couldn't handle it. Apparently precious, delicate Petunia's can't handle much at all.

After lunch the three retreated to their bedrooms to get changed. The two boys shared, leaving Petunia with one room to herself. It was small and cramped and her legs were getting too long for the bed, but it had a window that overlooked a copse of trees, and on occasion Petunia could see squirrels. There was no life to be seen today.

Elijah had laid out one of their mothers old frocks to wear upon her bed as he had said. It was pretty by district 7 standards. It was light pink in colour with a dainty little collar and when Petunia had put it on and twirled for her brothers they said that she looked wonder.

"Oh sweetest, dearest sister!" said Elijah, wearing his best brown coat. "Please may I brush your lovely long hair?"

Petunia nodded and was sat down on a stool as Elijah carefully brushed out her long pink hair, that matched the shade of his own, and plaited it neatly in a long braid that fell down her back.

"There. Perfect," he sighed when he was done.

And that was that.

There was not time left to wait and the three made their way with the other potential tributes to the town square. The streets were lined with adults and parents and children too young to enter the Hunger Games. They whispered as the siblings passed.

"That Elijah boy is 18 you know. Perhaps a generation will pass without seeing a games," Petunia over heard from the crowd.

"Doubt it. The capitol has got it out for them I know it," another replied.

It was enough to jolt awake the butterflies in Petunia's stomach.

The screens that Petunia had seen being set up earlier were larger than she remembered, each the size of the Elkwoods house and towered high above their heads. On their screen was only the symbol of Panem.

Petunia hugged her brothers goodbye and headed to the back of the girls line with their words of good luck still fresh in her mind. She thought she might pass out as she lined up to sign in. Her head was spinning so quickly and her heart was beating so fast that she could hardly recite her own name as she reached the desk.

In the little girls pen Petunia found a few familiar faces but no-one really wanted to talk. So the children of district 7 stood it neat rows, faces pale and trying to stop their knees from shaking.

It seemed like a lifetime before it began, as if the whole district were holding their breath.

At last the camera crew at the side of the entrance to the town hall gave a thumbs up and the doors opened.

Out stepped a man with pale skin and hair the colour of trees in fall. He dabbed a wonderfully white handkerchief to his thin lips and examined the two bowls laid out in front of him with and unreadable expression. Petunia recognised him almost instantly as a man named Todd Allison, he had once been the escort to district two but last year he had been downgraded to 5 and now it seemed he would be the escort to 7. Petunia wondered why.

The young man stepped up to the podium, cleared his throat, and began to speak into the microphone in a voice that was soft and sweet, in spite of it's strong Capitol accent.

"I would like to welcome everyone here to the 66th annual Hunger Games. First and foremost I would like to introduce, a very special past victor and this years mentor; Dylan-" the microphone cut out and Todd Allison brought his hand to his ear as if he was listening to someone. He appeared visibly annoyed and Petunia heard him cuss under his breath as the microphone came back online. "...bloody redicu- Ah! Yes!- It seems that unfortunately he is unable to attend the Reaping ceremony. But tributes shall have the pleasure of meeting their mentor once they have been selected I assure you." He paused and rubbed his hands together. "Now of course we have our annual documentary explaining what brought about this great celebration of strength and willpower that is the Hunger Games, and of course, most importantly, a reminder as to why history should never be repeated."

He turned to look at one of the two large screens that flickered briefly before finally starting to play the usual propaganda film about how the Hunger Games came to be. It explained that there had once been 13 districts that lived in harmony with the capitol. But the districts had betrayed their kind leader by rebelling. The Capitol crushed the uprising, obliterating the 13th district entirely. The remaining 12 were given the Hunger Games. As a reminder for their betrayal it was decided that there would be an annual televised event, during which 24 children would be chosen as tributes, two from each district, and given the honour of fighting to the death against one another an a vast arena. The last child standing would be crowned the victor.

Petunia knew all of this off by heart of course, and so, it seemed, did Todd Allison. Who looked positively bored as the short film ended and he announced;

"It is now time to select the tributes of district 7. As per usual, ladies first."

And with that he turned briskly on his heel, pulling back the sleeves of his smart shirt as he strode towards the round glass bowl.

7 times.

Petunia swallowed hard.

7 times over her name was repeated in that bowl.

Todd Allison reached into the bowl and hesitated, his fingers searching for the perfect slip of paper.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 different slips were brushed by his fingertips.

The young man withdrew his arm having chosen his victim.

Of course there were children in that bowl who's names had been entered more times than hers.

The young man strode back to the microphone and unfolded the slip that contained the name.

Children often entered their names in more times in exchange for more food for their families.

Of course these children's families did not have unlucky reputations.

"Petunia Elkwood."

And that was the Elkwood's 19 year long lucky streak broken.

Petunia had sort of always known that she would be the one to break it. Petunia's aren't very useful after all. She was not as beautiful as her brothers, she was not as calm as Meredith or as bright as Elijah and now she was going to travel far away and die in front of hundreds of thousands of strangers.

Yet, in spite of that, Petunia did not feel very afraid.

Surely now that she had been chosen her brothers would be safe from all harm. She had cleansed them of all bad luck.

And so, when Petunia Elkwood was told to step forward, step forward she did. Through the parted sea of wide eyed children and up the cracked concrete steps to stand beside the slim, sweet-smelling man from the Capitol.

From the crowd someone cried out. Perhaps it was Elijah. Petunia wasn't sure. Whoever it was seemed very, very far away.

_I am going to the Hunger Games._ The thought mulled over in her mind.

Todd Allison paused for a moment and when she said nothing continued the ceremony.

"...And now for the boy tribute."

_I wonder if Meredith and Elijah eat the rest of the lunch._ Petunia thought as Todd Allison's heels clicked as he walked over to the bowl. She hoped that they would. It was a lovely lunch after all and she didn't want it to go to waste. She hoped that they would make good use of her room and clothes too. Surely they could earn themselves a small fortune if they sold them. Her brothers had always enjoyed spoiling her with pretty things.

When Todd Allison had chosen the unfortunate soul he returned back to his pedestal and unfolded the little piece of paper, Petunia wondered who it could possibly be. Who would she have to kill, or, more likely, who would kill her?

Petunia Elkwood was quite unprepared for the name that he read out.

Nobody was.

No one could be that unlucky.

"Elijah... Elijah Elkwood."

_Not Elijah._

Petunia found his face in the crowd almost instantly, his hair it's usual messy state and face was contorted in anguish.

For the first time in a long time the crowd began to protest. A brother and sister was unfair! A brother and sister was beyond cruel! A brother and sister in the same games was impossible! What were the odds?

Elijah had hesitated to move for too long. He was too shocked to work his legs and now the peacekeepers, large guards dressed in white riot suits, began to descend upon him. Yanking him towards the stage. He began to struggle, began to protest when;

"I volunteer! Take me instead! I volunteer in his place as tribute!"

It was the loudest that Petunia had ever heard Meredith shout.

The peacekeepers froze and turned to search for the owner of the voice. Meredith was grabbed by his shoulder and dragged instead towards the stage.

"Meredith no. No! Meredith don't you dare do this to me!" Elijah began to protest, but was restrained by more guards. "Meredith no!"

Meredith looked nothing but resigned to his fate and he was pushed up to stand but meters away from Petunia.

"A volunteer." Todd Allison almost sounded amused. "Don't know if district 7 has ever had one of those before. What is your name?"

He unclipped the microphone and held it to Meredith's mouth.

"Meredith Elkwood."

Elijah's screams continued. The remaining onlookers were as silent as death.

"Elkwood? Was that your brother that you just volunteered for, Meredith?"

"My adopted brother."

"And this young lady is...?" Todd Allison turned and gestured to Petunia.

"My adopted sister..."

"A brother and sister." Their new escort rolled the phrase over his tongue. "Well then, it would seem we have our tributes!"

Elijah's screams were growing quieter now as he was dragged from the square.

Petunia felt sick.

"Happy Hunger Games!"

The world began to spin.

"And may the odds be ever in your favour."


End file.
